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Madame Olenska, again with a hand at her hair, uttered an exclamation of assenta flashing Già giàand the Duke of St. Austrey entered, piloting a tremendous black-wigged and red-plumed lady in overflowing furs. My dear Countess, Ive brought an old friend of mine to see youMrs. Struthers. She wasnt asked to the party last night, and she wants to know you. The Duke beamed on the group, and Madame Olenska advanced with a murmur of welcome toward the queer couple. She seemed to have no idea how oddly matched they were, nor what a liberty the Duke had taken in bringing his companionand to do him justice, as Archer perceived, the Duke seemed as unaware of it himself. Of course I want to know you, my dear, cried Mrs. Struthers in a round rolling voice that matched her bold feathers and her brazen wig. I want to know everybody whos young and interesting and charming. And the Duke tells me you like musicdidnt you, Duke? Youre a pianist yourself, I believe? Well, do you want to hear Sarasate play tomorrow evening at my house? You know Ive something going on every Sunday eveningits the day when New York doesnt know what to do with itself, and so I say to it: Come and be amused. And the Duke thought youd be tempted by Sarasate. Youll find a number of your friends. Madame Olenskas face grew brilliant with pleasure. How kind! How good of the Duke to think of me! She pushed a chair up to the tea-table and Mrs. Struthers sank into it delectably. Of course I shall be too happy to come. Thats all right, my dear. And bring your young gentleman with you. Mrs. Struthers extended a hail- fellow hand to Archer. I cant put a name to youbut Im sure Ive met youIve met everybody, here, or in Paris or London. Arent you in diplomacy? All the diplomatists come to me. You like music too? Duke, you must be sure to bring him. The Duke said Rather from the depths of his beard, and Archer withdrew with a stiffly circular bow that made him feel as full of spine as a self-conscious school-boy among careless and unnoticing elders. He was not sorry for the dénouement of his visit: he only wished it had come sooner, and spared him a certain waste of emotion. As he went out into the wintry night, New York again became vast and imminent, and May Welland the loveliest woman in it. He turned into his florists to send her the daily box of lilies-of-the-valley which, to his confusion, he found he had forgotten that morning. As he wrote a word on his card and waited for an envelope he glanced about the embowered shop, and his eye lit on a cluster of yellow roses. He had never seen any as sun-golden before, and his first impulse was to send them to May instead of the lilies. But they did not look like herthere was something too rich, too strong, in their fiery beauty. In a sudden revulsion of mood, and almost without knowing what he did, he signed to the florist to lay the roses in another long box, and slipped his card into a second envelope, on which he wrote the name of the Countess Olenska; then, just as he was turning away, he drew the card out again, and left the empty envelope on the box. Theyll go at once? he enquired, pointing to the roses. The florist assured him that they would. |
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